Go Fish Mr Lucky Leprechaun
by just giddy
Summary: ....um, happy belated st. patricks day? rating for irish cream and firewhiskey :3. KBFW oneshot


**Ok, so I know st. paddy's day was a while ago but whatevs. I can help that inspiration hit's a day or two late. Blame the muse that just recently came out from hiding behind my volleyball gear. Yeah, I know, stop being metaphorical…..I know….**

"PERCY NO!" 22 year old Katie Bell shouted, leaping over the skewed chair in the small flat's kitchen and pulling her wand out of the baby's hands as he giggled happily in his high chair. Apparently making Aunty Katie's wand into a lollipop was great fun.

"How many times do I have to tell you Perce?" she reprimanded the 16 month old as she wiped her baby-drool-covered wand on her holed jeans, "You can't eat wands," she bent down and tweaked his nose affectionately, "We can't have your tongue turning into a bitty-baby snake can we?" she cooed and he laughed joyously.

The sandy-blonde bent down and picked his pacifier up from the floor, charming it clean she stuck it in the baby's mouth as she made an odd noise which cause the chubby near-cherub to emit another joyful coo as he sucked on his 'binki'. She smiled warmly, noticing how a few red hairs sprinkled the top of his porcelain head, a testament to his father no doubt. Feeling a tug on the hem of her emerald shirt with the bold white clover on it, she looked down to see nothing other than another red head.

"What's up Kyle-Bear?" she asked the small boy with a mess mop of red hair sitting on his head, using her nickname for the 2 year old.

"Thirsty," he state simply.

"So let's get you something to sip on, hu?" she smiled down as he looked up at her with coal-black eyes admist a sea of freckles. She nudged him gently over to the refrigerator on the other side of the kitchen, she opened it up and peered inside as Kyle stood inbetween her long legs, looking hungrily at the brightly colored food. "So what do ya want Kyle-kinns?"

His dark eyes traveled towards his favorite. "Juice." he said simply.

"It's too late for that," she said, "how about milk?" she asked, bending down to give him a smile.

"juice."

"No, how 'bout milk?"

"juice."

"No juice Ky' "

"Juice!" he squealed as he made a leap for the infamous apple juice.

Grabbing him around his waist just before he flew into the turkey dinner from just last night, Katie thanked her Quidditch reflexes. It paid to be a chaser sometimes.

"Ok," she said in fake chipper, balancing him on her hip with one arm still slinked around his middle as she grabbed the milk cartoon and closing the door with a bump of her hip as she turned away. Apple juice now out of Kyle's sight.

"So milk," she continued in a happy tone as she sat him on the counter. With a flick of her wand a sippy cup floated out of the cupboard and with another casual flick the milk poured itself into the train-decorated cup and the lid snapped itself shut. "There you go champ," she said, handing it to him and setting him back on the tiled kitchen floor. He looked at the cup in his hands dejectedly before looking up at her with a blank stare. "Go on!" she laughed lightly, nudging him gently and with one last look he scampered into the den to play with, no doubt, his play Quidditch set.

The Kenmare Krestal smiled contently to herself, folding her arms lightly across her chest.

She could make a damn good mom someday.

* * *

Later that night, around, oh, ten o'clock Kyle was in bed for good-no longer coming out and begging for juice. So, splaying out in front on the worn couch in the den-careful not to trip over Kyle's Quidditch set in the process-Katie let out a long sigh. Silence had never been so golden.

She honestly didn't mind babysitting for Alicia and George, even if it was on St. Patrick's day and every some-what social witch was out having a good time.

With a flick of her wand all the toys on the floor swept up and were gingerly placed in the toy chest in the corner. Looking a the large white shamrock on her chest, Katie knew spending a quiet night for St. Patrick's wasn't at the top of her list for things to do. But she promised Alicia and she owed her a favor anyway. Stretching her tired legs out in front of her, she caught sight of her green and white striped socks as her eyelids fluttered close.

Yet it was hardly ten minutes until a large knock resounded in the small flat. Rubbing the sand out of her eyes, Katie padded to the front door, pulling her wand out of her back pocket as she went. Although the war had been over for nearly two years, her old habits still dies hard.

"Who is it?" she asked groggily, her hand mechanically tightening around her wand.

"Your lucky leprechaun!" an all too familiar voice said happily through the oak door.

She rolled her eyes as she opened the door at which Fred bounded in, his arms spread open, a smile just as large on his freckled face, and an extremely large leprechaun hat sitting lofty on his red head. "Oh my god Fred," she graoned, looking at the watch on her hand with a yawn, "It's too late for this."

"Aye, maybe," he said in a thick Irish accent, "But I can' have me favorite lass sleeping the' night away on dear ol' St. Paddy's day, now can I?"

"Yes you-" and before she could retaliate any further he swept her up into a very large, Weasley patented hug.

"How you doing Kates?" he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers as the wide brim of his ridiculous hat umbrella-ed over her as well.

"Far better if I could breath in the slightest," she laughed lightly yet the only response she got was an Eskimo kiss from his freckled nose. "Gee thanks."

"You'll be thanking me again in just a few moments," he smirked as they pulled away.

"Why's that?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"IVE GOT IRISH CREAM AND FIRE-!" he was cut off sharp by Katie's hand flying to cover his mouth.

"Fred," she hissed in a whisper, craning her neck up to him, "They're asleep."

"Oh, sorry," he said meekly somewhere inbetween his green hat and sweater. "But it does cheer you up doesn't it?" he wiggled his eyebrows, bringing out the fore mentioned bottles.

She gave him half a scoff, taking the bottles out of his hands, shutting the door behind him and padding back into the den. Fred following closely behind her.

* * *

"Oh go _fish_!" Katie snarled with a smirk on the couch nearly an hour later. "and pass me the cream1"

"Why Kates," Fred mused, his hat long discarded, as he reached for the pile of cards, "I do believe you are rather drunk."

"_So_?" she scoffed, "pass me the fire whiskey already damn it."

"I thought you wanted the cream?" he asked, his words slurring together as well.

"Well then give me both," she said in an exited whisper, her green eyes a glow with the joy that was St. Patrick's day.

"N-not until you kiss me," he pointed a shaky and dejected finger at her.

"Why in the name of Godric would I do that?"

"BECAUSE I'M IRISH!" he declared just before Katie's hand once again landed on his mouth.

"Sssssssssssssssh!" she hissed, now leaning against him after practically hurling herself at him. "The-kids-are-a-sleep!"

"A lilll-ate there hu Kates?"

"Oh go fish!" she scoffed, sitting back up on her side of the couch. "Got any aces?" she asked before he could reach for another card on the cushion between them.

"Not a one," he slurred as he reached for the cream. "go fffffffffish."

"Why Fred," the chaser mused, "I do believe you're drunk."

"I do believe I have full control over myself," he said, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand. "So therefore I can't be drink," he watched as she grappled for a card from the pile and failed miserably, "are you sure you're not drunk as a skunk with some funky funk funk?"

"As long as I'm not saying stupid assss-tuff like that….I think I'm good," she murmured, "Now kiss me I'm Irish!"

"Well if you insist," he said before leaning over and giving her a small kiss on the corner of her mouth. "love you Katessssssss"

She gave him a lopsided smile before grabbing his ears and pulling his mouth down on hers fully.

* * *

"George, George, hit the lights-will yas?" Alicia Weasley mumbled rather loud as she nearly fell into the wall as they entered the dark house.

Catching hold of his wife's arm, the rather sober George Weasley helped right his drunken wife and flicked on the light all at once, "That's the last time I give you Irish cream n fire whiskey in one night," he laughed, more to himself then the dark haired woman who was peering intently at the wallpaper.

"Since when is it flowers?" she mused, standing up again and placing her hands on her hips. "George, why are there flowers on the wallpaper?"

"How about I tell you in the morning?" he offered as he lead her through the small flat towards their bedroom.

And even though he was watching to make sure that his wife didn't bump into any corners, fall over any chairs or trip over anything larger than her toe, he didn't fail to notice to pair sleeping on the couch.

He watched momentarily as Fred gave a rather loud snore and Katie, who was laying on his chest, slap him in her sleep before he shut his mouth and slept more quietly for the Bell's liking.

George chuckled to himself which nearly led to disaster as he wife shrieked "OPPSIE!" rather loudly before nearly cracking her head open on the tiled floor. It's a good thing Quidditch habits die old.

**Yeah, I know its short. I meant for it to be longer but then today I realized its been like more than a week since St. Paddy's day and I really wanted to write a drunk Katie, because its fun, and a kb/fw ship, because it's fun. So I would've made it longer but obviously I didn't. but it's the thought that counts-or atleast I hope it still does. hahahaha. Sorry its way late and way short again, ill make it up to you.**

**Lots o love!**


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